A Father's Responsibility
by Cumor
Summary: Hotch always felt blessed with his well mannered son, but when Jack goes a little astray, will the profiler have the heart to shoulder the responsibility of teaching his boy right from wrong? WARNING! Contains disciplinary spanking of a minor and reference to child abuse. Not your cup of tea? Please don't read. Thanks
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING:** Contains disciplinary spanking of a minor and references to child abuse. I realize that this can make people very uneasy. If you know it will bother you, please move on to another story. Thanks.

 ** _Disclaimer:_** Criminal Minds is the property of CBS Television Studios. I'm just borrowing the characters for a short time. No character was harmed in the making of this fan fiction, and all will be returned in the same condition as I found them.

 **AN:** This story was written at special request from my friend, rubyblue 100. After reading Guilt, she was curious to see the interaction of Hotch and Jack. This was quite a bit more challenging because Hotch just doesn't listen to me. I'm used to characters who stray from the path that I want my story to go, but they always move in a positive direction towards where I want the end to be. Aaron? Nope. He balks and will take a story in the exact opposite direction. If he doesn't want to do something, he's not going to do it. I found myself pitying the writers who work with his character for the show. Hopefully he follows their direction with a lot less fuss. I swear, I'm ready to turn Rossi loose on him.

Thanks for the kind comments and warm welcomes. You guys have always been, and will always be the best. Special love to my poor suffering readers who have stuck by me all this time. Y'all make it all worthwhile.

Now, without further adieu, and nearly against Aaron's will... Enjoy!

* * *

 _Parents have no greater responsibility in this world than the bringing up of their children in the right way, and they will have no greater satisfaction as the years pass than to see those children grow in integrity and honesty and make something of their lives._ ~Gordon B. Hinckley

* * *

"Buddy, what do you have in your pocket?" Hotch asked as he handed his son an ice cream before leading the way to the nearest bench.

The unit chief of the BAU had managed a rare day off and was happily enjoying it with his pride and joy. Father and son had caught a movie, hit the soccer field, and done a little shopping, most of it revolving around toy stores and sporting good centers. With the day beginning to wind down, Aaron risked spoiling Jack's dinner with dessert first in an attempt to squeeze a little more quality time out of the day.

"Nothing, Daddy," the boy answered as he claimed his spot on the bench.

Aaron Hotchner cocked a brow as he curiously glanced at his now fidgeting son.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh," the agent's little one said with a nod as he took a lick of his rapidly melting cone, avoiding his father's penetrating gaze.

"How about letting me see?"

Jack slowly pulled his hand from the pocket of his windbreaker and held it up, fingers splayed, to show his father that it was empty.

Noting the persistent bulge in the jacket's pocket, Hotch allowed his expression to darken ever so slightly.

"Jack, what do we say about fibbing?"

"But I'm not."

"Show me what you have," the man said firmly.

"I don't want to."

With a silent sigh, Hotch quickly slipped his fingers into the pocket and withdrew a hard plastic figure.

"Captain America?"

Jack lowered his gaze to the chocolate puddle forming on the ground near his feet. He didn't feel much like eating ice cream anymore.

"Where did you get this?" the profiler questioned in a quiet tone.

"He wanted to come home with me."

"Where, Jack?" he repeated with more force.

The little boy appeared to be pleading the fifth as he grew silent while reaching out to toss the remains of his dessert away.

Hotch gently, but firmly lifted his son's chin until their eyes met.

"Where?"

"Pirate's Bounty."

Aaron bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile at the irony. Clearing his throat, the profiler grew stern.

"Let's go," he said as he stood and extended a hand for Jack to take. "We're going to return the Captain back to where he belongs, and you'll apologize for having taken him."

"No, Daddy. Please. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, but don't make me take him back. He doesn't like it there. He wants to stay with me."

Averting his gaze for a moment, Hotch drew a deep breath before releasing it as a soft sigh. Nestling the toy in his own pocket, the man crouched down and took his son's hands in his.

"He doesn't belong to you. Taking something without paying for it is wrong. When we do something wrong, the first step to making it right is admitting our mistake and apologizing for it."

"But, Daddy."

"No buts, mister. I'm not very happy right now. You know better, and we're going to talk about this when we get home, but first we need to get Captain America back to his own home. He has a lot of work to do over there and we're keeping him from it."

Jack hung his head as he slid off the bench, defeated by his father's logic, and allowed Aaron to steer him back down the street towards the toy store.

* * *

Walking through the doors, Hotch spotted a young woman stocking the shelves. Pulling the toy out, he handed it to his son.

"Come on, buddy," he said as he placed a guiding hand on the little boy's back and walked him over to the employee.

"Excuse me. We don't mean to disturb you, but my son has something to say."

Jack looked at the pretty blond woman, then back up at his father with a pleading expression.

"Go on," Hotch encouraged.

"I...I found this in my pocket," Jack shyly muttered as he handed over the action figure.

"Jack," Aaron called in a soft warning tone.

The child swallowed and glanced down at his shoes before continuing. "I'm sorry for taking him. I was bad, and now he can't do his job."

The woman looked to the father who shrugged slightly.

"We'll be happy to pay for it, but we'd like to donate the toy to a good cause. Maybe a children's hospital, or something of that nature."

"That won't be necessary," she reassured the man before placing her hand on the boy's shoulder causing Jack to glance up at her touch.. "Bringing him back was a very brave thing to do. Captain America would be proud of you for doing the right thing."

Jack looked up over his shoulder at his father and caught Hotch's faint smile of approval.

The agent ruffled his son's hair.

"I think it's time for us to head home," he informed the boy, before shooting the woman an appreciative look. "I am sorry for the trouble we've caused. Rest assured that this won't occur again."

"I'm sure it won't, but don't be too hard on him. Even the best of us have moments where it's hard to resist temptation. I'm sure your son is in good hands. He'll figure it all out in record time."

"That's what worries me at times," he admitted with a half smile. "Thanks again for your understanding."

The car ride home was unusually quiet as Hotch and Jack both nervously considered what the rest of the night had in store.

"Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I gave it back."

"I know you did, and I know how hard that was to do. I'm proud of you."

"Does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

As the sedan rolled into the driveway, Hotch glanced at his little boy.

"It was a good start towards making amends, but I'm afraid you're still going to be punished," the profiler answered solemnly with regret in his voice.

"Am I in big trouble?" Jack pressed as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

Hotch killed the engine and sighed inwardly before nodding.

"Some of the biggest."

"You can send me to bed without supper. I'm not hungry anyway."

Aaron smiled as he brushed a lock out of his son's eyes.

"I don't think so. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to go in and while I work on something for dinner, I want you to take a bath and get into your pjs. I won't have you going to bed with an empty tummy, but I think we're going to call it an early night. Alright?"

"Yes, sir," the child answered as he sadly bowed his head.

"We're okay, buddy," Hotch reassured the child. "But Daddy has to enforce the rules when you've been naughty. Unfortunately, this is one of those times."

"You're not mad?"

"Upset, but no. Not mad. Now, that's enough stalling. We can talk more inside. Let's go."

Unbuckling his seat belt, Jack nodded before following his father's lead and abandoned the relative safety of the car for the looming uncertainty of what awaited him behind the closed doors of his home.

* * *

Hotch sat motionless in his recliner with his eyes closed listening to the sound of water running. He had opted for an easy meal and decided to order pizza, knowing that Jack would appreciate the comfort food after... After what? The stoic agent released his breath in a long, defeated sigh as he rubbed his eyes between his thumb and forefinger. After he was spanked.

The thought caused a nervous feeling in the pit of Aaron's stomach. He had never actually physically corrected his son before, but this wasn't one of his normal childish blunders. Jack knew that stealing was wrong and had even lied in an attempt to avoid discovery. That was a blatant act which needed to be nipped in the bud before it had the chance to become a habit that could have a devastating effect on the child's life.

 _You're over reacting._ He reminded himself that the clerk had been right. Nearly every child, himself included, falls victim to their hedonistic nature at some point in time and thankfully most leave that behind as they mature. _Because someone takes the time and effort to show them the error of their ways._ But that didn't have to be through physical chastisement. Jack was smart. He could be reasoned with. Aaron could take away a privilege instead. That was generally all it took to make his point and discourage further misbehavior in his bright little boy.

Groaning softly, Hotch recalled a discussion he and Jack had several months ago when the child had been caught having taken a ring off of Jessica's nightstand. The man played it off as an isolated incident that required no more than a sound scolding to prevent further pilfering by the boy, but it seemed he had been mistaken. Worse, he had promised a sore backside as a consequence should Jack ever steal again. That meant his son already knew what to expect, and, if nothing else, Aaron always was a man of his word.

 _You need to be more careful with your threats_ , he silently admonish himself.

With his mind continuing to search for a more acceptable option, Hotch sunk further into the cushion and loosely folded his arms.

 _Every child tests the rules, consciously or not. Knowing that there are boundaries in place, boundaries that will be firmly upheld, makes him feel safe and allows him to explore more freely. Limits are proof of a parent's love and create a sense of well-being in a child._

The profiler snorted loudly.

 _That's not always the case._

Hotch's mind transported him back to a time and place when the shoe was on the other foot. When _he_ was the offender.

It had been an uneventful day. He accompanied his mother as she ran her errands, but at the grocery store everything suddenly went wrong.

"Aaron, what are you eating?" his mother asked as they stood in the check out line.

The candy immediately turned bitter on his tongue and his cheeks heated with a flush of embarrassment. Shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact, the little dark haired boy held out a hand containing the remains of his found treat. With a disappointed shake of her head, his mother took the package from him and handed it to the clerk.

"We'll take this, too."

Once the item was added to her bill, the annoyed woman reclaimed the candy and handed it to her son.

"Throw it away."

Aaron sadly looked up at his mother with large soft brown eyes. He knew he was already in trouble, so what further harm could finishing the candy cause?

"Now," she demanded in a clipped tone causing the little boy to scutter towards the nearest trash can and dump the colorful chocolate buttons along with any hope for a peaceful evening.

A coworker of his father had been at the market and witnessed his attempt at petty theft. Even though his mother had no intention of telling her husband about the incident, the child knew he was doomed.

Aaron spent the rest of the day sequestered in his room fearfully listening for the sound of his father's car. When it finally came, his blood chilled. By the time the man opened the front door, the little boy was in full blown panic behind a facade of cool indifference.

The argument that followed the man's arrival was to be expected. His mother bravely attempted to defend him, bringing much of the man's wrath upon herself. Hearing her suffer was hard for the child, and he felt some twisted sense of relief when the man's rage was finally focused on him.

Aaron did his best to take his whipping in silence. He attempted to ignore the man's angry ranting and gritted his teeth against the blinding pain. His father's belt lashed wildly against any part of his body it could reach, and still the boy never made a sound. His lack of response fueled the man's rage to greater levels, bringing even more suffering upon himself until his body couldn't take anymore. After what felt like a lifetime, the bruised and bloodied child mercifully slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

When he finally came to, the youth found that he was alone on the floor in the darkness of his room. As he attempted to get up, every inch of his body screamed in pain. He started to call out to is mother for help, but something stopped him. A sound. A soft whimpering coming from the living room.

Young Aaron had weathered the storm of his father's abuse without reacting, but it was his mother's weeping that brought tears to his eyes.

"Daddy?"

At the sound of Jack's voice, the ghost of Hotch's memories fled, leaving behind a mild feeling of nausea. Unsettled, Aaron inhaled deeply before glancing across the room to meet his son's steady gaze. Jack appeared so small and vulnerable that the man once again felt his resolved slipping. Surely this one time he could be lenient. It would mean breaking his promise, but...

"Daddy, I'm scared."

"So am I, buddy," he softly replied as he opened his arms invitingly and soon had them filled with his precious little boy.

Aaron hugged Jack close then placed a soft kiss on the crown of the child's head before releasing his hold just enough to situate him properly on his lap. Taking a settling breath, the profile's expression turned serious.

"We need to talk about what happened at the toy store. What you did was very wrong."

"I know."

"I know you do. Do you know how I know?"

Jack shook his head.

"Because you compounded your misbehavior by lying. You lied because you didn't want to get into trouble for doing something you knew was wrong."

The little boy looked away from his father's dark eyes and sadly bowed his head.

Hotch caught his son's chin and carefully raised his head back up.

"Lying is never alright." His voice was velvety soft and calm as he did his best to make his point without frightening the child. "If you lie, I will never be able to trust you, and that thought hurts me more than anything in this world ever could."

"More than a bullet?"

"More than a bullet," the man agreed with a nod. "I love you, Jack. I'll always tell you the truth. If you love me, you'll do the same."

"Okay, Daddy."

Aaron couldn't mask his smile at the child's sincere, business-like expression. He knew he was in trouble, but he was doing his best to bravely face the consequences and there was nothing more that his father could ask of him. Hotch knew in his heart that if Jack argued with him, his resolve would shatter. For a moment he wondered if somehow the child knew that, too, and was trying to make this as easy on him as he could.

Choking back a suddenly flood of emotion, the profiler swallowed hard then cleared his throat in a weak attempt to regain his focus before continuing.

"Jack, what did Daddy promise if you stole again?"

The little boy dropped his head before quietly mumbling, "A spanking."

"That's right. Did you think I wasn't serious?" he asked as he cocked his head.

"You're always serious," Jack whispered as he glanced up at his father through thick dark lashes.

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. Haley had made him promise to show Jack that he hadn't always been so austere. Had he failed her? Had his years in the justice system completely dehumanized him and sucked the joy not only out of his life, but also out of his son's? Aaron often found it difficult to separate his role of unit chief from his role of father. After all, he did viewed his team as his family, but while he had to be stringent with them, he tried to be easy-going with his little boy. Sighing inwardly , Aaron mentally decided to monitor himself more closely and try harder to be the upbeat father his son deserved, but for now...

"Well, at least this time I certainly was," he said as he raised a brow. "You can't do these things, buddy. I see people everyday who do very bad things, and I help to punish them so they don't do them again. The last thing I want is to come home and have to punish you, but I do it because I don't want you growing up like them. I want you to become a honest, trustworthy man. Right now, I'm afraid you've strayed a bit from that path."

The child lowered his gaze and began to nervously pick at a thread on cuff of his sleeve while nodding in understanding.

"I had hoped that my warning about Aunt Jessica's ring would have been enough to dissuade you, but apparently it wasn't. You've put me in a tight spot, buddy, and I don't like that."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I know, and I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but you've earned this. You have to understand. You could have gone to jail. The lady at the store had every right to press charges against you, and there's not much I could have done. There's the possibility that the court would have decided that I don't do a good enough job of taking care of you, and that you'd be better off with another family. I don't know what I would do if that were to happen. That's why it's so important to mind me. When it comes to something like stealing, I don't make the rules, but I do have to enforce them or someone else will. If it takes a good hard spanking to make you follow the rules, then that's exactly what you'll get, because I refuse to lose you."

Aaron's heart sank as he felt his son began to tremble. Tightening the arm that supported Jack, he pulled the little one closer and hugged him.

"I'm not mad at you," he reassured. "I'm disappointed in your behavior because I know that you're better than this, but I'm not angry with you. I need you to know that."

Hotch felt Jack nod against his chest before the child's sniffling made him cringe. The man tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling searching for something to save them both, but found nothing. Finally, after several minutes, he drew a breath and gently pulled his son back.

"Let's get this over with."

"Do we have to?" the teary eyed boy asked.

"I think it's best, and I promise you'll feel better after."

The skeptical expression on Jack's face caused Hotch to pause. A few moments ago he had said that he would always be truthful with his son and he had meant it. His mind swiftly conjured images of the aftermath of his father's discipline, then just as quickly replaced those with memories of corrections he had willingly accepted at Rossi's hand. His father would usually be harsh and distant, a model of behavior he would never subject his son to. Dave, on the other hand, could be just as completely inflexible and stern, yet always tempered punishment with care and understanding. Aaron knew which man he chose to emulate, and with that knowledge came a comforting feeling from knowing that he had indeed spoken the truth.

"I know it doesn't make sense, buddy, but you will. Now come on. It's time to face the music."

Lifting the child, Hotch carefully tipped him forward and laid Jack gently across his lap where his boy instantly began to cry.

The man held his breath as he struggled not to react to his son's panic.

Rubbing Jack's back tenderly, Aaron allowed his touch to soothe his child before applying firmer pressure to hold him in place.

"Jack, you disobeyed me. You've been warned about taking things that don't belong to you, but you decided to do it anyway. Maybe this will serve as a reminder to do the right thing from now on."

Hotch inhaled as he raised his hand over his intended target then hesitated. Slowly, he curled his fingers closed into a fist and pressed it to his forehead, before opening it again to rubbed his eyes.

 _I can't do this. I don't want him to be afraid of me, and how can he not fear me if I hit him? Haley. Honey, I don't know what to do for our son. I don't know what's right anymore. You were always so sure of yourself when it came to taking care of Jack. We both could use your guidance right about now._

At that moment, the phone began to ring.

Hotch let his hand fall from his face and placed it lightly on his son's upturned bottom as he heaved a sigh.

 _Saved by the bell?_

Aaron briefly considered answering to give himself and his boy a reprieve, then decided to allow the machine to pick up.

"Aaron Hotchner, I just got off the phone with Morgan. What in the hell were you thinking, and why do I have to find these things out second hand? How DARE you run into a burning building. Looks like we need to sit down and have a discussion about common sense. You know, that thing you seem to be lacking? You're too important to this team... Hell, you're too important to _me_ to be risking your life like that. Call me back once you've cleared your dance card, because I'm going to need your full attention, son. We have _a lot_ to talk about. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not pleased with this devil-may-care cavalier attitude of yours, and I plan on getting to the bottom of it."

Rossi paused and Hotch heard him take a breath before he continued in a calmer tone.

"Look, I know you did what you thought you had to do to save that guy, but that doesn't make it right. I'm pissed off because I care. I love you too much to let you do stupid shit, kid. Now call me back, and give Jack my love. Talk soon."

The call disconnected with a beep and Aaron sighed once again.

 _Really, Haley? That's what you call a sign?_

"Daddy, are you in trouble?" Jack asked with a sniffle as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Looks that way, but Uncle Dave's bark is far worse than his bite. There's nothing for you to worry about. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Much to Hotch's relief, Jack's tears had stopped as he worried more for his father's hide than his own. The thought made the agent smile.

"Yes, I'm sure. We all make mistakes sometimes, and the people who love us are obligated to point them out so we recognize that they are mistakes and don't make them again. That's all that Uncle Dave is trying to do." Aaron paused as he gently patted his son's backside. "Just like what I'm trying to do with you. Now where were we?"

Jack had just enough time to turn back around and wrap his arms around his father's thigh before Hotch's hand landed sharply on his bottom. The boy cried out more in surprise than in pain before the mild sting swiftly faded.

"Young man, we don't steal. If you want something, you ask. You _never_ take what doesn't belong to you. Am I clear?"

The youngster nodded his head as a single tear trickled down his cheek.

"Good, because I don't want to ever have to do this again," Hotch said as he applied another stinging swat to accentuate his point. "If I have to correct you about this one more time, that spanking will be much longer, harder, and these pj bottoms will be coming down. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," Jack answered with a slight whimper that brought tears to the case hardened agent's eyes.

"A man keeps his promises, Jack. I want you to promise me that you've learned your lesson. I want you to really mean it when you tell me that I won't have to worry about you taking anything without permission again."

Hotch's hand connected with his son's backside one more time prompting the child to quickly acknowledge his terms.

"I promise. I promise, Daddy. I promise I won't do it again," he agreed while tears tumbled down his cheeks.

"I believe you, buddy," Aaron said softly as he scooped his son up into his arms and held him close.

Wrapping his arms around his father's neck, Jack buried his face against Hotch's shoulder and continued to weep quietly while the man gently rubbed his back.

"It's alright. It's over. You're okay, buddy. Shh. You're alright. Daddy's got you."

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"I know you are, champ."

"I won't do it again."

"I know."

Hotch held his son and consoled him until Jack finally quieted down and moved to pull away.

With his arm still around the child's back for support, he watched Jack rub the back of his hand across his eyes and sniffled as he sat up on his lap. Worried, Aaron cocked his head slightly to the side.

"Okay?" he asked.

Jack nodded, but refused to meet his father's eyes.

"You don't look okay," the man stated with concern.

"I'm... sorry."

Ruffling the youth's hair, Hotch smiled.

"I think we've already established that."

"No. Not for taking Captain America. I mean, I _am_ sorry for that, but..."

Aaron raised a questioning brow.

"But what?"

A rogue tear trickled down Jack's cheek before he roughly wiped it away.

"I'm sorry about this," he said with a touch of anger as he sniffled miserably.

"For crying?"

The boy nodded.

"There's nothing wrong with that. I don't like seeing you sad, and hate the thought of being the cause of your tears, but in this case, they're to be expected."

"You wouldn't."

"Cry?" Hotch asked before taking a breath. "Of course I would, and do."

The profiler tipped his son's head up, and gazed earnestly into his eyes.

"Emotions are meant to be expressed. I'm afraid my job, and some of the things I've seen on it, has caused me to bottle mine up at bit. When I talk to people who have suffered a loss, I feel the same sadness that they do, but I have to remain calm for them. That's what they need from me. It helps them regain enough control to allow them to talk with me, and that can get me the information that I need to solve the case."

Jack nodded.

"I've been doing that for so long that it just becomes second nature, buddy. It's not that I don't cry. It's that when I do, I'm usually alone because I don't want to upset the people around me."

"Like I upset you?"

Aaron shifted his gaze to the ceiling for a few seconds and sighed to himself then looked back to his son.

"I knew what to expect. I was prepared for it, so I don't want you worrying about that."

"Daddy, I don't like it when you're sad, either."

"Then I'll tell you what you can do. Be the good little man that I know you are, and you don't have to worry about me ever being sad. Deal?" Hotch asked while holding out his hand for his son to take.

Jack seemed to consider his father's words for a moment then nodded.

"Deal," he proclaimed as he shook Aaron's hand.

The man smiled and gave his boy a hug before slipping him off his lap and standing up himself.

"Go wash your face while I check on where that pizza is," Hotch said.

"Pizza?" Jack asked as his face lit up with excitement.

"Now don't start thinking that you get a treat after being in trouble. Daddy is just too tired to cook," the agent warned.

"I won't," the boy answered with a grin and started to race towards the bathroom when a hand on his shoulder stalled him.

"Jack, one more thing."

A quick swat landed on the child's bottom causing him to bite his lip to stifle a yelp.

"Don't ever lie to me again. You'll never get away with it."

The child shook his head and wandered towards the bathroom at a little slower pace while rubbing the sting from his backside and muttering something about profilers that caused his father to chuckle.

After a quick call to the pizza parlor, Hotch sank back down in his chair with his phone in his hand and closed his eyes.

This night had been a painful experience for both of the Hotchner men, but they had managed to survive, and were a little wiser for the experience. There was no doubt in the man's mind that his son had learned a valuable lesson. With any luck, Jack's petty theft career had just ended, which made the heartache the elder had endured worthwhile.

For his part, Hotch had learned that he hadn't inherited his father's volatile temperament, after all. Against all odds, he managed to break the pattern of abuse. It was still something he would be concerned about, but he had gain some measure of confidence in himself. He was sure that he and Jack would be alright regardless of what the future threw at them, and he had his mentor to thank.

A soft groan suddenly passed his lips as he shook his head. He had nearly forgotten.

Without opening his eyes, Aaron fumbled with his phone and hit the speed dial key before placing the device to his ear.

"About damn time," the voice on the other end growled.

"Listen, Dave, I know you're angry, but I can explain."


	2. Chapter 2

"Seriously, Aaron? You actually believe that you can offer me a good enough reason for running into a burning building without backup? No fire or rescue service in sight? You put your life in jeopardy in a manner that you would find unacceptable for any other member of your team, and you _think_ there's a way to explain that to me?"

Leaning his head against the backrest with his eyes still closed, Hotch took solace in the fact that this wasn't a face to face conversation. It was easier for him to evade his friend's points of contention when there was a little distance between them. Even after all the years, even though he was now Dave's supervisor, the man still had a way of making him feel like a disobedient child and his current state of mind wouldn't easily accept that.

"I know it wasn't an ideal situation," he began softly, before a muttered Italian curse cut him off.

"Not ideal? No, Aaron. It most certainly wasn't ideal. You could have been killed. That's as far from _ideal_ as you can get!"

The volume and sharpness of Rossi's tone caused the unit chief's jaw to tighten.

"I had it under control," Hotch ground out in a cool, tight voice.

"Che roba! You ran into an inferno. In a building ready to blow! That's not something you can have _any_ control over."

The force of Aaron exhalation carried across the phone.

"Dave, I can't do this right now."

"Not over the phone, you can't. I'll expect you at my door in a hour, no more."

"Not tonight," the unit chief informed his friend with an air of authority. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow morning. We can talk more then."

Rossi was struck silent for a moment. He couldn't recall the last time his protege had simply refused an order.

"Aaron, what's going on?" he finally inquired in a calm tone tinted with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just can't leave Jack right now. I have a pizza on the way, and I need to get him fed. Maybe once I get him to bed, I can give you a call back, but I really think this should wait until tomorrow."

"Is something wrong with Jack?"

"No. Why would you even think ..."

"I'm coming over," the older man declared. "I'll pick up a real pizza. When whatever you ordered gets there, I want you to toss that damn cardboard crap in the trash. It'll take me about twenty minutes, but I'll be there with some good food, and we'll talk things out."

"Dave, there's no reason..."

"Yes, there is. Now, get off the damn phone and go see to your son. Uncle Dave will be there soon."

As the phone went dead in his hand, Hotch leaned his head back and groaned.

"Daddy! Daddy, the pizza is here!" Jack called as the sound of the bell sent him racing towards the door.

Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, Aaron exhaled slowly then raked his fingers through the hair along his temples.

"Not quite," he mumbled to himself. "The cardboard crap is here. The pizza won't make it for another twenty minutes, which give me exactly no time to plan my defense. Could this evening get any worse?"

Making his way to the door, his spirit received a much needed boost in the form of his son's excitement as he accepted the cardboard box from the delivery man.

"Yay! Pizza!"

Smiling, Aaron ruffled his little man's hair.

"Go put it in the kitchen. I'll be there in a minute to get you a plate. Don't you dare start without me."

"I won't, Daddy," Jack promised before vanishing with his prize.

Watching him go, Hotch allowed the child's happiness to lift his mood a little further. Maybe, depending on how well he could handle Dave's inquiry, the night might not be quite as bad as he feared.

Turning back to the delivery man, Aaron was immediately put back on his guard. The young man avoided making eye contact, and shuffled with a substantial amount of nervous energy as he clutched the bill tightly.

"Is everything okay?" the profiler asked, not sure he really wanted to hear the answer.

"Um. Not really, Mr. Hotchner." The teenager forced himself to meet the intimidating man's eyes, as he handed over the invoice. "There was a problem with your credit card. Do you have another one we can try to run, or would you like to pay cash?"

* * *

"No, I reside in Virginia. I don't know anyone in Barrow, Alaska, nor have I ever been there. Why in the world would I purchase six cases of whiskey in Barrow? Do you think I'm throwing a frat party for a flock of penguins?"

Rossi watched Hotch angrily pacing in the living room from his vantage point at the kitchen table. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but from what he could piece together, it appeared that Aaron's identity, or at least his primary credit card information had been stolen. He couldn't begin to figure out how many times he had suggested that his friend employ one of those security services, but the Unit Chief of the BAU had it all under control. ...Sure he did.

"A waddle? Really? Well, yes. Actually I have heard them called a colony, and I _am_ aware that there are no penguins in Alaska." The dark haired man scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I really don't care to be educated about penguins right now. I just want to make sure my bank card gets credited for these bogus charges."

"Sounds like your dad has had quite a night," Dave remarked while Jack helped himself to another slice of authentic handcrafted cheese pizza.

The little boy nodded before placing the pizza on his plate and eyeing David carefully.

"Uncle Dave, is Daddy in trouble?"

"No, Jack. He's having some trouble with his credit card. That happens sometimes, kiddo. The bank will get it worked out. Don't worry about it."

"That's not what I mean. I ..." The youngster paused and dropped his focus on the cheesy goodness laying on the plate. "I heard you yell at Daddy on the phone."

"Ah. That." Rossi's mind whirled as he tested the weight of his words before carefully choosing what to say. "Your dad works really hard to get the bad guys. You know that, right?"

Jack nodded, eyes gleaming with pride.

"Like Captain America."

"Yeah. Just like Captain America," Dave agreed with a grin. "But sometimes he gets a little _too_ focused on catching the bad guy on his own, and forgets that he has a team working with him."

"The Avengers."

"That's right." Rossi ruffled the littlest Hotchner's hair as he chuckled to himself, before releasing a sigh. "Sometimes, against better sense, Captain America goes off on his own. He's too hard headed to listen to Iron Man or Thor, and won't take their advice even though he knows that they're only looking out for his safety. Your dad had a moment like that. He got lucky, which is great, but you can't rely entirely on luck. I think your dad needs a little reminder about why we work together."

"Because a team of heroes is stronger than a single hero," the boy said without the slightest hesitation.

"They sure are. That's because each one has their own special power, but also because they have each others backs. The last thing they want is for one of their members to get hurt because he was being careless. Not only would they be worried about him until he was back on his feet, but being down a man makes it much more difficult for them to protect the universe. Can't have things like that happen, now can we?"

The little one shook his head.

"So, you see, your daddy and I just need to clear some things up. He has to remember the reason he's part of a team, and he needs to rely on us as much as he expects us to rely on him."

Brown eyes, the mirror of Hotch's, carefully studied Rossi for several silent seconds before the child made a final request.

"Don't make him sad, Uncle Dave. Please."

The senior agent drew a soft breath before clearing his throat.

"I don't want to see him sad either, kiddo. While I can't promise that he won't be upset by what I have to say, I will promise to make him feel better after I've said it. Will that work for you?"

Jack was still considering the offer when the sound of a cell phone being dropped on the coffee table came from the next room. Aaron covered his face with his hands and took several slow deep breaths before mentally declaring himself relaxed enough to rejoin his son and Rossi in the kitchen.

"Got it cleared up?" Rossi asked as Hotch entered the room.

"Not quite, but the bank is on it. They should be able to unravel this mess in a day or two."

"How did a couple of cases of booze clear out your card? What sort of high end sh..stuff did they buy? "

"I don't know, but they didn't get around to tapping out my bank account. The fraud company froze it when they saw the charge. They figured there was something wrong, which I appreciate, but the bank won't unfreeze it and grant me access until they finish their preliminary investigation."

"Great," Rossi sarcastically muttered.

"Yeah," Hotch agreed as he lowered his head in an attempt to hide his seething frustration from his son.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No," he answered as he glanced back up at his friend and shot him an appreciative smile. "We're fine, but thanks for the offer. It means a lot."

"You always know where I am if you need me."

The unit chief nodded before crouching down besides his little boy.

"Have you had enough to eat?" he asked, eyeing the untouched slice of pizza.

Jack nodded.

"Then how about thanking Uncle Dave for dinner before you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed?"

"Thank you, Uncle Dave," the tyke said as he slipped out of his chair and clambered into Rossi's lap. Wrapping his arms around the man, he hugged him tight then whispered in his ear. "That works."

Dave returned the hug as he chuckled softly to himself.

"It was my pleasure, kiddo." Placing a light kiss on top of Jack's head, Rossi spoke softly into the mop of light brown hair so only the child would hear. "Sweet dreams, patatino, and don't you worry. The Captain is safe with me."

The little one nodded against the Italian's chest before allowing himself to be gently placed back on his feet.

"There's coffee. Help yourself. Let me get this little monkey to bed, and I'll be right back," Hotch said while placing a guiding hand on his son's back to steer him towards the hall.

"Take your time," Rossi answered with a nod. "Good night, Jack."

"Night, Uncle Dave."

A short time later, Hotch returned to the kitchen to find everything cleaned and a cup of coffee sitting at his spot at the table.

"You didn't have to do that."

David shrugged.

"I wanted to."

The Italian took a sip from his own mug while studying the younger man from across the rim. After giving Aaron enough time to get comfortable, he quietly inquired, "So, you want to tell me what's going on?"

Closing his eyes, the unit chief shook his head.

"I can't do this tonight. I'm sorry, Dave. I _really_ can't. You can ream me out tomorrow, but tonight I can't even think about formulating a defense. Please, I'm begging you, don't kick me when I'm down."

"Have I ever done that?"

The younger man gazed over at his mentor and held his gaze for several seconds before glancing down.

"No," he answered honestly. "But you don't know what I've been through."

"The simplest solution to that is disclosure. Let me in, Aaron. You know I haven't said a word about your stunt since I arrived. That wasn't what I was asking about. I want to know what's going on with Jack? He was unusually quiet, and if you weren't willing to leave him with Jessica for a couple of hours, something must be up. I mean, I know I'm scary as hell when you fuck up, but I don't see you using your son as a shield. Obviously whatever is going on has something to do directly with him and it's eating you alive."

Exhaling harshly, Hotch gazed into the dark liquid swirling in his mug as he spoke.

"There was a little incident this afternoon. Jack got into some trouble and ..." Aaron sucked in a breath and swallowed hard before looking up at his old friend. "I had to physically correct him."

"You _spanked_ Jack?"

The man nodded.

"You better have a damn good reason for that," he stated with more than a slight threatening tone to his voice.

"He stole a toy from one of the shops downtown."

"And you spanked him for _that_?" Rossi asked as he surveyed his protege through narrowed eyes.

Hotch tipped his head and gazed at the Italian with palpable astonishment.

"You wouldn't have?"

"This isn't about what I would do. It's about your reaction and that seems a bit extreme for you."

Aaron averted his eyes and inhaled deeply to help maintain what level of calm he could obtain before focusing back on the man sitting across the table.

"I was in control at all times, Dave."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he responded immediately, setting the elder man at ease. "This was extremely difficult for me, but I had to do it. This isn't the first time Jack has had a problem with sticky fingers. The last time was when he took something of Jessica's. I sat him down and gave him a stern lecture. During that scolding, I made a promise that I didn't think I would have to back up, but I was sadly mistaken."

"You promised to warm his tail in the future if he continued to help himself to things that weren't his," the senior profiler surmised.

"Exactly," Hotch verified before ranking a hand through his hair as his breath departed in a whispered sigh. "Belive me, that was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had managed to back myself into a corner with that threat."

"It was a promise, Aaron, not a threat."

"It was a threat. I threatened my son with physical pain, and then followed through. I know that I didn't do any physical harm to him. Not really. We're talking a few swats to let him know I meant business. Nothing more than that, but what if he continues to challenge me? What if I have to do it again? I don't want to scare him, Dave, and God knows I don't want to hurt him."

The pain in Hotch's eyes shown through in a way that words could never do justice.

"That little boy isn't scared of you. If anything, he's scared _for_ you. Do you know what he asked me while you were on the phone? He asked me not to make you sad. He's worried about you, son."

"I know he is. He and I were having our discussion when you called," Hotch said with a shake of his head. "You need to stick to calling my cell when you get the urge to chew my ass out."

"Duly noted."

"Jack doesn't like the idea of me being on your bad side. He doesn't know how to handle it."

"I doubt he wants you to be on anyone's bad side. He respects you, Aaron. You're his hero and he wants everyone else to recognize that. Captain America isn't supposed to get into trouble with other members of his team. We know it happens, but that's not the way it works in Jack's world. You're everything to that little one, which plays a big part in why I won't allow you to get away with pulling dumbass stunts. He needs you to be around to help him grow up into a fine young man. How is that going to happen if your luck runs out when you're taking one of these unnecessary risks?"

"I thought we weren't going to discuss my folly until tomorrow."

"Glad to hear you finally admit to it being a folly, and don't worry, we're not. I'm just making the most of this opportunity."

Hotch huffed softly, but didn't seemed incline to argue so Dave continued in a calm, quiet voice.

"Aaron, the way you decide to raise Jack is entirely up to you. I can offer some advice here and there, but you and your son are the ones who have to live with each and every decision you make. Now, for my money, I think you handled this milestone rather well. I'm not surprised that you're having doubts. That's normal. I'm sure as hell not surprised that you're frightened..."

The profiler's head shot up and he stared at his mentor, an argument swirling in the depths of his rich, dark eyes, but Rossi's raised hand kept him quiet.

"You _are_ frightened. You're frightened that you're going to push your son away. You're scared that you're going to inadvertently hurt him, and damage your relationship." David took a breath and silently released it. "Everyone, and I do mean _everyone_ , who finds themself in a disciplinary role feels the same way, kid. We're not born with some sort of failsafe. We're almost guaranteed to make mistakes along the way, but you have to trust Jack to know the difference between a blunder and true hostility. He'll recover from your errors because you will find a way to make those up to him. Plus, they'll teach him an extremely important lesson."

"What's that?"

"That no one is perfect. That even his idol can be fallible. Right now, he's trying to live up to the superhero. You can do no wrong in that child's eyes. That's a lot to emulate, don't you think?"

Hotch turned his harsh glare onto his innocent cup of coffee with an intensity that would make cream curdle.

"I'm not close to being perfect."

"You think that's news to me?" Rossi replied with a chuckle. "If I'm not mistaken, I'm the one who gets the privilege of pointing out your screw ups."

"Very vigorously," Hotch agreed.

"If you weren't so damn hard headed out there on the job."

The unit chief exhaled softly, never taking his eyes off his mug.

"I didn't have the luxury of waiting for backup," he softly admitted. "I know it was a risky move, but if I hadn't go into that building. If James Morris had died in that explosion..."

As a hand grasped his shoulder, the profiler quieted. Swallowing his explanation, he bravely faced Rossi with his head held high.

"Tomorrow," the elder said with conviction. "We'll discuss it tomorrow."

"What if I want to discuss it now?"

"You don't," David informed the younger man. "You're a profiler, Aaron. You know where this is coming from, as well as I do, and it has absolutely nothing to do with your recklessness on that case."

Pulling back ever so slightly, Hotch tilted his head as he focus on his mentor intensified.

"Feeling a sense of guilt is understandable, but you haven't done anything wrong with Jack. You need to make peace with this on your own."

"What if I can't?"

The Italian studied his protege for a few moments, then pushed back from the table. Standing, he carried his coffee cup to the sink before turning back to the still sitting younger man.

"You will," he finally said, while leaning against the counter. "Give yourself some time. Things will look better in the morning after you and Jack have had a good night's sleep. If I'm wrong, we can talk about it some more tomorrow before work. "

Hotch appeared to wilt at the dismissive words, but the unit chief nodded in understanding.

"So our...talk..will be at work?"

Dave smirked at the subtle hitch in the younger man's voice.

"We'll see how you're doing in the morning and then I'll make a decision."

With a mild scowl, Hotch nodded again before pushing his mug away and leaning back in his chair with a defeated sigh.

"Look, kid. Don't think I'm just going to let this go, because it ain't gonna happen. You know that."

"You do realize that I'm _your_ boss, Dave. I make the decisions for the team, and I'm perfectly capable of making them for myself."

"Hm."

Rossi remained relaxed as he weighed his boss' words.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Aaron," he finally said as he pushed away from the counter and closed the distance between them. Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, he patted him gently. "I'm going to head out. Get some sleep, but do me a favor. Before you drift off, consider how you would deal with Morgan if the two of you had switched places. How would you feel if you rolled up on the scene that he did and found out that he had nearly been killed because he disregarded protocol?"

"Protocol? Since when were you a stickler?"

"Team protocol," Dave answered with a shrug. "Just think about it, kid, and give me your take on it tomorrow. For now, I'll just see myself out and wish you a good night."

"I don't see it being very good," Hotch glumly replied.

"It can be if you make peace with yourself. At the heart of the matter, you know you did right by Jack. As far as your other little issue goes, you already know the right thing to do. Embrace that and you'll be sailing on calm waters in no time."

With a final pat to Aaron's back, Dave slipped out of the kitchen. Moments later the unit chief heard the door open and shut, before silence enveloped his home.

Frozen in place by troubling thoughts, Hotch found himself trying to pinpoint the exact moment where the day had gone so wrong. It had started out so well, but the ending could definitely use some work.

"Daddy?"

Sucking in a breath, the man turned to find the light of his life hugging the kitchen's doorframe.

"I thought you were supposed to be in bed," he said with raised brows, but no true rebuke.

"I can't sleep."

Motioning his son over, Hotch scooped Jack up, set him on his lap, and cuddled him close.

"Is something bothering you?"

The youngest Hotchner shrugged.

"No monsters under the bed, right?"

The little one shook his head. "No monsters."

"Then what's keeping the Sandman at bay?"

Again, his son shrugged while burrowing closer into Hotch's chest.

Repressing a sigh, Aaron brushed away the tussled brown fringe that fell across Jack's eyes, and earned the automatic response of having the boy look at him.

"If you tell me what's wrong, I might be able to help," he offered, but the child simply lowered his gaze in response.

Softly inhaling, the profiler glanced at the ceiling and wondered why his well honed skills would fail him now.

Finally, drawing a conclusion, he tipped Jack's head back up to meet his eyes.

"You're no longer in trouble," he stated with conviction.

The little boy quickly looked away.

"Jack?"

"Is Uncle Dave mad at you?"

"No," Hotch answered with a furrowed brow. "Did he say that he was?"

Jack shook his head.

"I've already told you that there are times that Uncle Dave feels the need to point out my mistakes. That doesn't mean that he's mad at me. He trying to be helpful."

"Because you won't listen to Iron Man or Thor."

Aaron's brows shot up to disappear in his hairline.

"I don't?"

"Uncle Dave says you don't."

"I always try to, but there are moments where I don't have time to discuss what needs to be done. When someone is in danger, I have to act first to save them. That's something even Uncle Dave has done, but has conveniently forgotten about."

"Not listening can be right?"

The question was simple, but it caused the agent to freeze for a moment. Situations involving various members of his team flashed through his mind. Actions that had placed each one in danger and landed every one of his agents in hot water with him. Actions very much like his own.

 _Consider how you would deal with Morgan if the two of you had switched places. How would you feel if you rolled up on the scene that he did and found out that he had nearly been killed because he disregarded protocol?_

With Rossi's words echoing, Hotch shook his head.

"You should always listen to the people who care about you. They'll try their best to look out for you."

"Uncle Dave cares about you."

"He does, and I'll try to do a better job of listening to him from now on. How does that sound?"

Jack answered with a smile as he hugged his father's neck.

"Alright, buddy. Now that we have that settled, let's get you back to bed," the man said as he extracted himself from his chair with his little boy in his arms. "And I'll be right behind you. If I'm going to be eating crow tomorrow, I'm going to need to sleep tonight."

"Crow? Yuck."

"You have no idea, Jack. It's really yucky, and Uncle Dave sure knows how to serve it up."

* * *

 **AN:** Hotch and Rossi have been bothering me. They're cutting into my Jasper time so I just had to do something for them. I didn't want Aaron to cave like that, but Jack has a way of making his dad see reason.

I apologize for any eye bleed. I was trying to proof read this on my lunch hour, but everyone I work with felt the need to come talk to me...mostly about Game of Thrones...

Yes, I swear I will be pulling Jasper back over that cliff before I have Rossi settle up with Hotch, but I won't keep any of y'all waiting too long.


	3. Troubles of the Day

Rossi stepped off of the elevator and glanced around the still empty bullpen before making his way to the stairs that would bring him to his lofty office. He often arrived well before the rest of the team, relishing in his early morning alone time. It gave him a chance to reexamine evidence at his leisure and approach cases from new perspectives that often eluded him when surrounded by the hive of activity so common in the BAU. After working these last few years as part of a team, he could finally appreciate the advantages, but he still enjoyed the thrill of solving a puzzle on his own like he had in the olden days. Being the only one in the office gave him the chance to escape into his head and relive those bygone times.

Then, of course, the present came with a mountain of paperwork. Yet another reason to long for the past. Finalizing cases was satisfying, but having to slog through the required documentation was just a pain in the ass. He tried to think of it as a writing exercise that would benefit his next novel, but he had never been very good at lying to himself. So it was with a groan that the Italian flopped down behind his desk and fired up the computer to begin the arduous task of a desk jockey.

Dave had become so engrossed in transcribing his notes that he missed the soft ping of the elevator as well as the steady cadence of footsteps along the stairs. He never once glanced away from his work until the quiet clearing of a throat alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in his private sanctuary.

"Aaron," he called with a smile for the imposing figure in the doorway. "Come in. You've come to rescue me from this drivel?"

"Temporarily, perhaps," Hotch responded as he silently slipped in and closed the door before taking a seat.

Rossi watched as his protege shifted restlessly in the comfortable guest chair before drawing a settling breath. Finally raising his head, the unit chief fixed his gaze on the senior profiler.

"I'm ready to talk," the younger man quietly announced.

"Are you ready to listen as well?" the Italian asked with a faint tip of his head.

"Yes," was the immediate answer given as Hotch sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest.

Taking in the younger man's closed body language, Dave mentally sighed, but gave a nod before leaning back in his chair in a relaxed manner.

"How's Jack?" he conversationally inquired.

"He's fine. He's bounced back like yesterday never even happened, but I'm afraid it's going to take a little longer for me to recover."

"That doesn't surprise me. It's often much more difficult on the disciplinarian. No one wants to be the bad guy, Aaron, but there are times that you have to put your feelings aside so you can do what's right by those you love."

"I get that, Dave, but it doesn't stop me from worrying."

"I know it doesn't, but you have to trust yourself. You're a good man, and a damn good dad. Even more importantly, you have a great little guy there. He'll keep you on track. Never fear, but now let's get onto _our_ business. Did you do that thinking like I asked?"

"I did."

"And?" the profiler prompted.

Aaron closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead as he exhaled in an extended huff.

"You're right. I wouldn't allow any other member of the team to take the risk I took last night," he admitted before allowing his hand to fall away from his face so he could once again meet his mentor's gaze. "But I stand behind my actions. There wasn't time ..."

His attempt at defense was cut off by Rossi's raised right hand.

"There's always time. You don't enter a dangerous situation without backup, regardless. I thought I taught you that lesson a long time ago, Aaron, but it seems that I was remiss. Lucky for you, that apparent oversight will be taken care of soon enough, and then we won't ever have this problem again."

"Dave, that isn't necessary."

"Oh, but it is," the Italian calmly replied before leaning forward onto his desk. "I won't have you leaving this team without its leader, and I sure as hell won't sit by and let you make an orphan out of Jack."

For a moment the two men stared at one another in stubborn silence before Hotch lowered his gaze.

"I wasn't injured," he reasoned in a near whisper.

"This time," Rossi countered. "You were lucky, but what if you hadn't been?"

"I had to do it, Dave. That one act, as hazardous as it may have been, led to a satisfactory closure of this case."

"Nice try, Aaron, but I'm not buying."

Pushing his chair back, Rossi eased himself to his feet and stepped out from behind the desk.

"The outcome of that unnecessary risk _was_ positive. I'll give you that," the elder said with a nod. "You saved an innocent life and did indeed gain information that led to the capture of our unsub, but there were other leads that were being run down at the same time. Leads that would have reached the same conclusion without endangering your life or the life of the officer with you."

Hotch's head snapped up and he caught Rossi's eye with a cold, level glare.

"I did nothing to endanger anyone but myself," he defended.

"Really?" Dave questioned while perching on the edge of his desk. "It was just you out there? Lieutenant Garner didn't accompany you?"

"You know he did, but I didn't place him in any danger. I requested that he check on backup. He was in the clear."

"I see."

Rossi broke eye contact as he rubbed the back of his neck while reflecting on his leader's story.

"Do you know where he was when you exited the building?" the older man asked after a rather lengthy uneasy silence.

"Well... No. I was focused on getting Mr. Morris and myself to safety."

"Ah."

Dave slipped off the desk and slowly began to circle around Hotch's chair as he carefully weighed his words for maximum impact.

"Aaron, do you see those file folders in my outbox?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"Those are the reports from the Detroit case. _All_ of the reports."

"Morgan hadn't arrived on the scene yet. He doesn't know the de..."

A warm, firm hand landing heavily on his shoulder stopped the Unit Chief's speech mid-word.

"It's not Morgan's report that piqued my interest, though he did give a very thorough account of what he witnessed at that diner."

Aaron cleared his throat, but otherwise remained stoically silent as the veteran profiler stood squarely behind him and brought his other hand to rest on his protege's opposite shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Do you know what I _did_ find to be a most interesting read?"

"I can hardly contain my curiosity."

Rossi tightened his grip on both of Aaron's shoulders to prevent himself from cuffing the insolent boy on the back of the head.

Bending down, his lips a breath away from Hotch's ear, Dave whispered, "Lieutenant Al Garner's report."

Aaron barely breathed as he stared across the desk at the recently vacated chair and processed the information he had just been given. What could a standard police file possibly hold that would be pertinent to his current situation?

With that question in mind, he glanced over his shoulder and was met by Rossi's dark, stern eyes — eyes that brimmed with disappointment and ... fear? A lump formed in the lead profiler's throat. He hated to have his old friend angry with him, but he absolutely abhorred the idea of causing the man undue concern or anxiety. Dave had filled a void in his life when he needed it the most. He had been much more than a supervisor to the agent in his early years, and if Aron was willing to be honest with himself, he would admit that Rossi was even more than a mentor back then. The unit chief was well aware of the debt that was owed the man. He wanted to make things as easy on him as he could, but in this case that was next to impossible.

To his mind, this time the ends honestly _did_ justify the means. Now he needed to find a way to win Dave over to his side of the argument. It would be an uphill battle, but he had to find a way to win the war. He was the team leader after all.

Hotch cleared his throat as he reminded himself of that fact. It was no longer Rossi's place to question his decisions, something his old friend continually forgot.

A mild tightening of his jaw was proof of Hotch's growing frustration — something Dave had not failed to notice. The legendary profiler had played his hand and now patiently waited to see where the chips would fall.

"How did you get Garner's...? You know what? Never mind. I don't need to know. I don't even need to know what it says."

"Oh, but you do, my boy," Rossi said with a sad sarcastic smile. "It's a real eye opener. For instance, were you aware that Lieutenant Garner sustained injuries related to the blast? He had managed to reach the door of the dinner, with plans of offering you assistance, just about the time you came barreling out of that blast furnace. A few seconds, all hell broke loose. He was closer to the building than you were when it exploded. He was fortunate to come away with only some mild burns, but his hearing has been damaged. You do recall what that's like, don't you? Having a perforated eardrum from a concussion blast? It's no picnic, is it? And do you know why the lieutenant was in the danger zone?"

Closing his eyes, Hotch turned away as he tried to find some shelter from the guilt that was beginning to bubbling up inside.

"He was trying to serve as your backup because he knew you shouldn't be going in there alone."

Aaron grimaced for a moment before his proud head dropped in defeat.

"Still believe you're only responsible for yourself? Still think that you didn't endanger anyone else?"

"I didn't know," was the soft, yet clearly articulated reply.

"I know you didn't, but you should have. We're all brothers in this battle against the bad guys. We all step up to cover each other's asses when the need arises. You know that, Aaron. You just conveniently forgot it because you wanted to be the hero. It's that ego of yours shining through again."

Hotch shook his head.

"Yes, it is. You always know what's best. You can handle it all on your own. And you know what? Most of the time you can, but you're part of a team that you need to rely on, and who needs to be able to rely on you. And I'm not talking about just our team, but that larger team of law enforcement. This job isn't meant to be done alone. We all have a part to play, and we succeed or fail together."

"I don't listen to Iron Man," the unit chief muttered quietly,

"You sure as hell don't," Rossi replied as he step away from his protege to reclaim his position of leaning against the front edge of his desk.

After several long seconds, Aaron finally raised his head and gave Dave a woeful expression.

"Why did you say that to Jack?"

"Was it a lie?" the senior profile asked as he raised a questioning brow.

A tense silence fell over the men as they continued to stare at one another until Hotch finally looked away.

"No, Aaron. Look at me and give me an honest answer."

The younger man warred with himself for a few moments before giving into his friend's demands.

"I try, Dave, but sometimes I have to..."

Rossi stopped him with a shake of his head.

"There's no buts to this. But what, Hotch? But you're above the rules?"

"I didn't say that."

"That's what you were going to imply. You and I both know it, so stop trying to shit me. I know all your arguments. I should. I've heard them enough times over the years. Just like you know my response, and you know I'm right. You know I've always been straight with you."

"This is not like any other time."

"You sure as hell didn't listen. That's the catalyst for _every_ time we've had to have this particular discussion."

Hotch's jaw locked as he shot the carpet an angry scowl while shaking his head.

"You just don't get it."

"Get what?" Rossi barked as he tossed his hands in the air. "What am I supposed to get? That you have a hero complex? Or is it some damn death wish that you're willing to risk the lives of everyone around you to accomplish? Because that's how you're acting right now!"

The lead profiler was on his feet, hands clenched into fists at his sides, before his mentor could even react.

"I'm _your_ fucking boss! I don't have to answer to you. _I_ make the decisions for this team. Not you. And sometimes I have to bend the rules, rules that _I've_ set forth. Sometimes my actions may seem hypocritical to you, and you're allowed to feel that way, but you will _not_ castigate me for doing my damn job."

Dave folded his arms as he calmly studied his enraged unit chief. The stiff posture. The labored breathing. The flashing eyes. A physical response was completely out of the question, and words of rebuke were not going to penetrate that guarded facade. Still...

Thinking quickly, the Italian softly exhaled and nodded.

"You're right, Aaron. You _are_ the boss, and I know that you always bring your A game to the office. I've over stepped my bounds. I apologize. Who am I to question your methods or motives?" Rossi said with a shrug. "I just wonder what you'll tell the family of the next Lt. Garner who crosses your path and isn't so lucky. Just hoping to save you from that unpleasant task, but hey, that's not my call, right? After all, _you're the boss_. It's _your_ show, and _your_ ass that's on the line when things go south. Whatever you wanna do, I'll always have your back, even if I don't agree with your methods."

The reminder of endangering his partner stung, but Hotch refused to let it show. Instead he drew an easy breath to help calm himself before nodding.

"I appreciate that, Dave," he said in response to the man's final statement. "So are we done here?"

"Absolutely. The rest of the team will be arriving soon. I suggest you take a few minutes to get yourself back under control. This performance doesn't frighten me, but the others don't know you as well as I do. Would hate to have them running for cover for no reason."

A slight flush pinked Hotch's pale cheeks as he consciously reined in his anger.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

Rossi shook his head.

"It's alright. The fault was mine. I shouldn't have pushed so hard. Let's forget it ever happened, and focus on just getting through the day."

Aaron nodded and was turning toward the door when Rossi's voice rang out once more.

"Oh, Hotch. Here. I've gone through them, but you still need to sign off on them before they get turned in."

The lead turned back and accepted the stack of folders that his friend held out.

"They're all up to par. You can just scribble your John Hancock on them and send them up to Strauss if you want. No need to suffer through them."

Internally, Hotch sighed. He knew what the man was doing, but he also knew that there was really no way around reading the reports. He had never, and would never put his name on something he hadn't reviewed thoroughly. Dave blamed his law school training, but his signature was a mark of his approval, and he couldn't approve something that he hadn't read.

"Thanks. I'll take care of it," he said as he held the files aloft for a second before silently stepping out of the office and slipping into his own, shutting the door firmly behind him.

* * *

A soft rapping on his door frame gave Rossi the opportunity for a much appreciated break in his day of electronic paperwork. Looking up he was mildly surprised to find the resident genius standing there shifting with nervous energy.

"What's up, kid?"

"I was wondering if you had a minute," Reid said before glancing away from the senior profiler's inquisitive gaze. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Is something wrong?"

"I...I don't really know, but it sure doesn't feel right."

"Then come on in and lets figure it out together."

The youth apprehensively looked over his shoulder before fully stepping through the door and closing it behind him — a move that piqued Rossi's curiosity even further. The somewhat highly strung young man tended to prefer open doors that offered an easy escape from stressful situations. The desire for privacy made his visit even more intriguing.

As Reid sunk into the chair opposite of his, Dave clicked the computer screen off and gave the boy wonder his full attention.

"I'm not sure how to ask this," the youth began with a stuttering start.

"Just take a breath and ask," the man helpfully suggested with an easy smile meant to calm the lad. "Is it something I did, or didn't do that's troubling you? I promise I won't get upset at you for filling me in."

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that. I was only wondering..." Spencer licked his lips as he tugged at the hem of his sweater vest. Finally, inhaling deeply, he directly met Rossi's gaze before blurting out, "Is something wrong with Hotch?"

Dave sat up straighter while his brow knitted as concern suddenly overtook his usual easy manner.

"Why do you ask that?"

"He's been really reserved, even for Hotch. He's staying closed off in his office, and then when he does come out, he's very direct with what he needs before he disappears again. It's like he doesn't want to be around the rest of us. Is it something we did? I figured you've known him longest so maybe he confided in you."

The legendary profiler visible relaxed while the young man voiced the concerns that Rossi knew were shared by the tight knit group milling around the bullpen.

"It's nothing like that," he said with a faint shake of the head. "Hotch is working through a few things right now. This last case was a bit more trying than he initially thought. He needs a little alone time to process it, but I can assure you, he'll be alright."

Reid frowned.

"It was a pretty standard case overall. At least as standard as our work can be. Why does this one bother him more than past cases?"

Rossi rolled his eyes up to the heavens as he carefully considered how much information he should offer in explanation.

Rubbing his bearded chin, he exhaled while weighing his words.

"Reid, you know that some components of this case were a little out of the norm. Some actions that were taken could easily be argued as haphazard."

The youth's soft worried eyes immediately registered understanding.

"But Hotch is okay, isn't he? We were told that he hadn't been injured in the explosion."

"Physically, he's fine. You have nothing to worry about. He's just starting to grasp what could have and what did happened the night at the diner. That's putting a lot of emotional strain on him."

When the doctor's eyes widened, Rossi quickly attempted to ease his mind.

"It's not a bad thing, Spencer. Not at all. He's starting to understand all that could have been loss, and the effect his hard-headedness has on the team. That little twinge of conscience will go a long way to keeping him safe in the future. I know it's not easy to watch, but you have to believe me when I tell you that this _is_ what's best for Hotch."

The gentle watery gaze wavered for a moment before Reid looked down at his hands resting in his lap.

"Can't you ... I mean, isn't there something you can do? Something to help him?" he asked in a whisper as he picked at his nails, unwilling to meet Rossi's eyes any longer.

Sighing, the Italian got up and went to his young friend. Crouching down he placed a hand on the boy's knee while he reached out with the other to chuck Reid beneath the chin.

When their eyes met, the elder smile.

"Spencer, you know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for Aaron, but he has to want my help. It's no good trying to force anything on him. He won't respond to that. It has to be his decision, and that will come in his own good time."

"Can you at least talk to him?" Reid pleaded in a high pitched voice. "If it was me, he wouldn't let me go though something like this alone."

"Oh, Reid." Dave wrapped his hand behind the doctor's neck and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "He's not alone."

"But you said..."

"I _said_ ," Rossi stressed. "That he needed some alone time to gather his thoughts and make peace with them. That doesn't mean we've abandoned him. We're a family, kid. We're always there for each other, no matter what. Hotch knows that. He knows we're here for him. Believe me, he knows, but the ball's in his court. He'll come to us when he's ready."

The dark glassy eyes that searched his face tore at the senior profiler's heart.

"Alright, kid. I'll make you a promise. If Aaron doesn't come to me soon, I'll approach him. I can be persistent when needed. I'll find a way to get through to him, but you're going to have to be patient. Hotch is ... complicated. You're going to have to trust me to do things my way because I know what works best with him."

"I do trust you. I just hate to see him suffer."

"As do I. It's never easy to watch someone you care about suffer, but he _will_ come through it stronger and wiser for the experience. And we'll be there to help him when he's ready."

Reid lowered his gaze once again and chewed on his bottom lip, but slowly began to nod.

"Good?" Rossi questioned with a raised brow.

"I wouldn't go that far, but I feel a little better about what's going on. I was starting to think it was something I'd done."

"Don't be silly, kid. This is really all Hotch, and keep in mind that he's going to feel a lot better once his cognitive dissonance clears up. It just takes time."

"Hopefully not too much."

"He'll be back to normal before you know it," Dave said with a smile as he brushed Reid's lanky hair back from his face and caught his eye. "Now get on out of here, and get that paperwork polished. Aaron can get really surly at times like this. I would hate for him to growl at you when it's himself that he's angry with. It's better not to give him any excuse to project. Okay?"

"'kay," Spencer agreed as he got to his feet and shuffled towards the door.

"Kid."

At Rossi's call, the genius paused at the open doorway and looked back over his shoulder.

"He's lucky to have you in his corner. I don't want you to ever question how much he appreciates that. He's not good with expressing his emotions, but he knows, and it truly means a lot to him."

"Thanks," Reid softly said before darting out the door and back down to the bullpen to complete his day's work.

In the silence that followed the young man's departure, Rossi took a moment to center his own thoughts. Aaron could be bull-headed at times. It looked like this was going to be one of those times.

Flopping down in the guest chair, Dave leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He scrubbed his hands over his face before releasing an exhausted sigh.

If he said or did anything to escalate his unit chief's feelings of guilt, he could easily push Hotch over the edge and cause him to spiral further down into depression. That was certainly out of the question. If he sat by and did nothing, the team's morale would suffer. They all held the unit chief in high esteem. No doubt the concerns the boy expressed were shared equally among them all, and until this matter was resolved they would be edgy and off their game. Thank God they were between cases at the moment, but that never lasted long. A call could come at any moment, and then what?

"Aaron, why must you make things so difficult at times? How about giving the ego a rest, and let me help you through this so we can all start over. Clear the air. Clean slate. That's all I'm asking. Is that really so much?"

"No," a deep, silken, solemn voice stated.

The Italian's eyes popped open and he turned in his seat to find Hotch standing in the doorway.

"It's not too much to ask," the man clarified while folding his arms and lowering his head with a sigh. "I saw Reid leave. It doesn't take a genius IQ to guess why he came to see you."

"They're worried about you."

"I know, and they needn't be."

"Easy for you to say. I know you've been putting yourself through hell today, but that's just as hard for the team to watch as it is for you to bear."

Cool dark eyes flicked up to meet his mentor's.

"Sorry," he said with the slightest hint of sarcasm as he propped his shoulder against the door frame.

Choosing to ignore the touch of attitude after judging it a huge improvement over what he had endured that morning, Dave quietly surveyed Hotch.

"So where are we now?"

"Stage five," the man replied as he lowered his gaze once again to the worn carpeting.

Rossi smirked as he shook his head. He clearly recalled the day he had related Kübler-Ross' stages of grief to one highly pissed off Aaron Hotcher. It had been meant to explain the way he viewed the boy's outburst at the time his protege was arguing about the unfairness of being leashed to a desk for two weeks following a botched case. It really had been Wachowski's informant's fault that the perp had gotten away, but the director had placed the blame solely on Rossi and his rookie partner.

The kid certainly hadn't been entirely wrong in his grievance, but office politics weren't going to change simply because Aaron Hotchner didn't like working cold cases for eight hours a day.

Eventually the Italian had gotten through to his underling and they all survived those grueling two weeks. As an added bonus, it appeared the current unit chief had a new understanding for the shifting emotions he tried so hard to hide. Rossi had watched the pattern emerge throughout the day, with Reid finally coming to him with his concern once Aaron had plummeted headlong into Stage 4 — depression.

"How do you feel?"

"Like crap," Hotch responded without hesitation.

Clearing his throat, the senior agent schooled his expression into a mask of neutrality.

"So am I to take it that this means you accept that your actions were wrong?"

"Yes, they were wrong, but I still believe that my reasons were right."

"That's generally how your subordinates feel when you call them on the carpet. Does that grant them a free pass as far as consequences are concerned?"

"You know it doesn't," Hotch growled while shooting Rossi a sideways glare.

"You might want to consider checking that attitude, Aaron. I've let it slide a lot today, but my patience for it is nearing its end."

The younger man raised his head at the not so subtle warning, before he felt his cheeks flush at the decidedly well earned reprimand.

"I..."

"I know," Rossi stated with a nod. "I understand, but you need to remember who you're talking to. I know you're my boss, Aaron, but ..."

Hotch shook his head.

"Dave, I never should have taken that cheap shot at you. I am your boss, but it wasn't an underling who I was speaking to this morning. It wasn't even my co-worker. It was my friend. A friend who I owe a great deal. A friend who sure as hell doesn't deserve to be treated the way I treated you. I can't ..."

The words suddenly caught in his throat as a shimmer of tears glazed his eyes, and the leader of the most elite team the FBI had ever seen fell silent.

As his head bowed, a gentle hand pressed against the back of his shoulder, guiding him into the safety of the office, and closing the door firmly behind him to isolate a shaken Hotch from the world outside.

* * *

The resonant thud of Rossi's office door closing caused Spencer to look up from his notes. Noting Hotch's open door and vacant desk, the boy genius groaned.

"What's up, kid?" Morgan asked as he put the finishing touches on his final report of the day.

"Do you think Hotch will be alright?"

Derek glance up to the offices and seemed to notice Rossi's closed door for the first time. Snorting to himself, he nodded.

"Hotch is in good hands. I wouldn't worry about him. I'd be more worried about getting my work done so I could get the hell out of here. How many more of those do you have?"

"Eleven," Reid answered with a more expressive groan than before.

"Elev...What in the hell have you been doing?"

"Worrying," the doctor honestly replied.

"Well, you're worrying about the wrong damn things. Give me a few of those and let's put this baby to bed early so we can go out and have us some fun before a new case raises it's ugly head."

"I wouldn't mind a new case."

A ball of wadded up paper bounced off Reid's head as Morgan expressed his dismay.

"There's definitely something wrong with you, pretty boy."

Fanning the file folders out on the desk, the senior officer clicked his tongue.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"I haven't a clue," Reid answered truthfully.

"Tomorrow is another day. Let's cut and run. We'll grab Garcia and JJ, and go hit a couple of the clubs downtown. After the day we've had, I'd say we've earned it. Grab your coat, and let's go."

"But what about Rossi and Hotch?"

"That's nothing you want any part of. Let them work their issues out while we go get our groove on."

Morgan was already on the elevator while Reid gathered his messenger bag and slung it across his body. Looking back up at the solid, shut door he wondered once more about the occupants within. He caught himself hoping that Rossi wouldn't be too hard on Hotch, while praying for an equal level of leniency in the unit chief for the legendary profiler.

The thought that his family could be at odds caused a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished there was something he could do to make things better, but what?

"Come on, Romeo. Let's go! Don't want to keep the foxy ladies waiting."

With a soft exhale, Spencer did his best to quiet the nagging voices in his head, and strode towards the elevator leaving the department elders to solve the troubles of the day.

* * *

 **AN: ...** Hm... Well it started out as a simple little story about Jack being naughty, but morphed into my alpha males butting heads. I was curious how Rossi would deal with Hotch if he didn't submit to being punished. He would never abuse him, so force was out of the question, and Aaron is the Unit Chief so if he doesn't want to submit to disciplinary action...

Anyway, there you have it. Guess I will wrap it up in the next chapter barring the boys twist things in a different direction.

For the record, I will no longer be watching Criminal Minds, but I would like to keep the team together through fan fiction if there remains enough of a reader interest in Hotch. To me, there can't be another leader of the BAU...with the possible exception of Rossi, which isn't the way CBS is going, so... Pfft! Long live Thomas Gibson!

Thanks for reading and I look forward to your comments. Stay safe out there guys. Y'all rock!


	4. Family First

"Come on, Aaron. Sit," Rossi commanded as he steered Hotch towards the small black leather couch against the wall. He half expected the younger man to balk given the role that same couch had served over the years, but surprisingly the unit chief seemed almost grateful as he melted into the padded surface.

"You want something to drink?"

"Please," Hotch replied as he rested his head against the cushion and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dave. I don't know what got into me."

"Arrogance," the senior profiler offhandedly remarked while removing a bottle of whiskey from his desk draw.

"No."

Rossi froze for a second before throwing a glance in his old protege's direction.

"No?" he questioned with a raised brow. "You don't think you've been allowing your ego and pride to run rampant?"

"That's not what I was referring to," Hotch quickly corrected with a shake of his head. "I meant no to the scotch."

"Bourbon?"

"Just some water will be fine."

Dave looked at the clock on his desk.

"Aaron, it's nearly quiting time. I'm sure it won't..."

Again, the younger man shook his head.

"I don't want it."

"Well you need to do something to help you relax. Look at your hands."

Hotch did as he was bidden and was mildly shocked to find that they were trembling. He quickly interlocked his fingers and placed his hands on top his crossed knee to control their shaking.

"I really am fine, Dave. Just a touch of nerves."

Rossi sized his friend up for a few seconds before returning to the task of pouring himself a drink then grabbed a bottle of water for Hotch.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," he stated with confidence as he handed over the water and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, keeping a comfortable distance between him and the lead profiler. "I'm not going to kill you," he threw in with a light smile before taking a sip of the dark amber liquid that swirled in his tumbler.

"I know that, but knowing doesn't exactly make me feel better about any this."

"Any of what?"

"This. All of this," he barked as he cracked the seal on his bottle and took a long drink to ease the tightening of his throat.

"Aaron, look at me," Rossi said in a softened voice, and was rewarded with compliance. "I won't allow you to endanger yourself needlessly. You understand that, correct?"

"Yes."

"That's all that 'this' is about. It's a road that we've traveled before. It's nothing new, but I don't ever recall seeing you quite this worked up. What's going on? Talk to me."

Hotch was quiet for a moment longer before he drew a deep breath and sat up straighter in his seat with both feet planted squarely on the floor. Shifting his attention to the toes of his highly polished shoes, he exhaled slowly.

"I don't want to repeat the actions that placed me in this situation, but I don't know that I won't react the very same way should similar circumstances present themselves."

Dave moved to reassure his unit chief of the highly reduced likelihood of such an occurrence, but his words remained unspoken as the troubled young man turned his dark, pain-filled eyes upon him.

"As you've pointed out, what if the next person isn't as lucky as Garner? What if that next person is one of you? It could have very easily been Morgan running in after me. He wasn't _that_ far behind. Hell, it could have been any of you."

The tempest of emotions caused a lump to form in the profiler's throat as he fought to continue to project his habitual calm and collected facade before realizing he was failing miserably.

Glancing away from his mentor, he continued with his deep, smooth voice wavering slightly.

"What if it's Reid next time? He really isn't well equipped for that type of situation. What if I do something that gets him injured... or worse?"

Lowering his head, he cradled it in his hands and closed his eyes as the full force of his guilt crashed down around him.

Rossi passively watched as grief began to intermingle with guilt. A touch of self-pity, he was certain, but mostly true remorse for a scenario that hadn't occurred, but very easily could have.

"He holds you on a pedestal," Dave finally said. "That kid will follow you to hell and back given the chance. We all would, but you _do_ have more of a reason to worry about Spencer. You can do no wrong in that young man's eyes."

Hotch nodded while keeping his head bowed.

"And would you want to have to explain to his mother..."

Aaron's head popped up, a dark scowl on his face while his eyes reflected his soul-deep suffering.

"I couldn't."

"You're the unit chief. You'd have to. That's part of the job," Rossi stated coolly, without an ounce of sympathy. "You would have to look her in the eye and tell her that her baby boy was injured in the line of duty. And why? Because that's what his supervisor taught him. He would have learned it from you."

Hotch swallowed hard, but refused to look away as he absorbed the truth of Rossi's statement. His mind whirled wildly as he sought to find some way to refute the man's reasoning. Quickly, he spat out the first response that offered him hope.

"He's too smart. He would never do such a thing."

David leaned towards his anxious friend and stared directly into his eyes.

"Now you're lying to yourself," he flatly explained. "That kid has idolized you for as long as I've known him. He learns by your example. Not by what you _say_ , Aaron. He learns by what you _do_."

"I would never allow him..."

"That's just it. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that, after what you pulled, you have any right to correct him for doing the same thing? This isn't about you putting him in danger, though that _is_ a possibility if you keep this crap up. No. This is about what he'll see as the right course of action to take because his boss takes those same damn risks. If it's okay for you, then it certainly must be okay for him. You would never do anything that breaks the rules, now would you?"

Aaron rubbed his temple to ward off a budding headache before averting his gaze with an exasperated sigh.

"I won't put myself in danger like that again."

" _Aaron_ , " Dave growled while reaching out to catch his former protege's chin and forced the younger man to face him. "What have I told you about lying to me?"

"I'm not trying to lie. I don't want to place _anyone_ in danger. And no, I don't want to leave my son alone, but I can't just stop doing my job because things get hairy. There has to be another solution that will keep everyone safe while allowing me to get the job done. If they do as I say, this doesn't even have to come into question."

"Seriously? You expect that to work? You think hypocritical practices are the solution to this problem?"

Hotch clamped down on the inside of his cheek before turning away to grouse under his breath.

"You disagree with something I've said?" Rossi challenged.

"I'm not a hypocrite."

"Do as I say, not as I do," the older man stated with a slow shake of his head. "If you don't practice what you preach, then that's exactly what you are. A hypocrite of the highest order."

Hotch folded his arms and held them tightly against his chest as he hunched up defensively while glowering with indignation.

"Well, at least your hands have stop shaking," Dave noted as he cocked a brow.

Aaron raised his eyes to glare at the senior profiler, but kept his chin tucked against his chest.

"Son, you need to make a decision about how you want this to play out. And for God's sake, you've got to stop fighting me at every turn," the Italian said as he placed the now empty tumbler down on the end table at his elbow.

"I'm not fighting you."

A dry laugh echoed through the room.

"You have got to be kidding me. Do you even hear yourself? Aaron, I can see the remorse, and you've admitted to having been in the wrong. You don't want to endanger your team, but you're still trying to make excuses for your behavior."

"It's not an excuse. I know I was wrong, but."

Dave waited for Hotch to complete his thought with more patience than he would normally extend.

After a moment, the younger man softly exhaled.

"I don't believe you're going to be able to deter me, which makes this discussion rather pointless."

"You don't want to make a change even though you know it's in your best interest and will benefit those around you?"

"I do."

"Then this... intervention is a far cry from pointless."

"Dave, to effect that kind of change in the manner than you're proposing..." Aaron paused and shook his head. "I can take pain. You wouldn't be able to inflicted..."

"I don't _need_ to inflict anything," Rossi firmly stated in a calm tone.

"But you will."

The Italian's brows rose as he tilted his head, his vision momentarily unfocused while he considered other options. Finally, he stared straight back at his colleague as he sighed inwardly.

"Unless you can give me a better solution to our current situation, then ...yes. In all likelihood my displeasure will be _inflicted_ upon your posterior. Look, Aaron. Over the years, I've learned what works with you. Sometimes a little properly placed motivation does wonders, and you know that's true. If you can honestly deny my statement, I suggest you do it now."

Hotch's gaze dropped to his still crossed arms.

"You would have to be far harsher..."

"Stop."

Dark eyes flicked upward to meet the senior's while the younger agent hushed.

"You don't know everything, counselor."

"And you do?"

Rossi couldn't suppress a mild chuckle as he shook his head.

"Hardly, kid, but I know that harsh treatment will shut you down in a heartbeat. And with good reason."

Dave cleared his throat before donning his most serious expression.

"Aaron, I made you a promise a long time ago. I know the cruelty you've endured, and I will never, in any way, shape, or form, treat you like that. There are times, like this, when I truly believe that you'll benefit from a firm hand, but never a harsh one."

Hotch's head bowed again as his friend's words washed over him. Biting his bottom lip, the lead profiler inhaled deeply before giving his head a violent shake.

"A firm hand is not going to deter me from my duty."

"I don't want to deter you from doing your job. I want to inspire you to be more thoughtful about _how_ you do it. I want you to lead by example and follow the same protocol you expect the boy genius and everyone else to follow. I don't think that's an unreasonable request, do you?"

Hotch answered with a soft, defeated, "No."

"Good. At least we have found one point where we can agree," the elder praised while grasping his friend's shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. "And now we've also established that your recent behavior would be unacceptable for any other member of the team, and would be dealt with accordingly."

Aaron's shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh before he nodded in agreement.

"It would be."

"As the head of this team, you need to adhere to the rules and set the prime example for the rest to follow. Agree or disagree?"

The younger man looked up at his mentor, then just as quickly shifted his gaze away.

"Agree," he finally answered in an even tone that belied his inner turmoil.

"Now that we've settled that point of contention, I need you to give Jessica a call and tell her that you'll be running a little late in picking Jack up."

"Dave, Jack is going to be looking for me. I can't leave him with Jessica. He needs me to pick him up. Especially after yesterday."

"And you will, but you're going to spend a little time with me first. After we've settled your debt, you and I will go pick Jack up together and take him to one of those kid places to get something that poses as food."

"I..."

"Aaron, do you think it's wise to keep putting this off? Be honest."

Hotch consulted his watch, then leaned his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes.

"I can give you twenty minutes. We can use the conference room."

"No."

The unit chief's eyes open and he gave his mentor a looked of utter confusion.

"No?"

"Not here."

"I'm alright with it," Hotch assured him.

"Well, I'm not, and you don't get to call the shots. So here's your choice. Either call Jessica and tell her that you're going to be running a little late, or we'll go pick Jack up now, and you can eventually try to explain to him what that rhythmic smacking sound he heard was. And remember, it's not okay to lie, even to your bambino. It's your decision, Chief."

Hotch glared at Dave through narrowed eyes, before rubbing his hand over his face with a loud groan.

"Your place or mine?"

Rossi smirked before patting his old protege's knee while moving to stand.

"I have another idea. Wouldn't you agree that the actual discussion part of this evening's event is at a close?"

"I think any further debate would simply be flogging a dead horse," Aaron answered with a nod as he also rose from the couch. "So, yes."

"Good, then come with me and we'll conclude our business so Jack isn't kept waiting too long. Leave your car here. I'll drive."

"Drive where? If we're not going to the house..."

"Somewhere that I know will put your head in the right place. Grab your coat. I'll meet you at the elevator," the Italian stated while propelling Hotch out of the office with a hand on his shoulder. "And call Jessica. Now."

* * *

Roughly ten minutes later Hotch was staring up at a familiar flickering neon sign.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Rossi said with a single shake of his head. "It's on the way to pick up Jack, and if the setting doesn't set the mood, I've lost my touch."

Aaron's stomach knotted as the buzzing sign brought up old memories he hadn't revisited in years.

"I think your house would be a better option. Jack will be okay with waiting just a little while longer."

"Nonsense. Let's go in and get this done."

"Dave, this really is no better than being at work. Nearly everyone from the Bureau winds up here."

Rossi snapped his fingers causing Hotch to look away from the Chalk Lines sign and focus on him.

"Nobody knows what happens in that back office except us, and it's too noisy for anyone to hear," he said in a reasonable tone. "Aaron, got you here was a real rookie move. I think mentally revisiting your earlier experiences at the Bureau will do you some good."

"But, Dave..."

"No buts, kid. Come on. Let's get this over with so we can move on with a clean slate, just like back in the old days."

The senior agent opened the door and stepped aside to allow the younger man to enter ahead of him.

"Rossi!"

"Hey, Felix. How's it been? Heard from Baker lately?"

"Heard he's on some cruise or something. Soaking up the sun and enjoying the good life," the bartender related as he placed a glass down on the bar. "What can I get ya?"

"Let me get back to you on that. I'm actually here because Ed and I had a little agreement. When I needed a place for a private meeting, he would offer the office up to me. I was hoping that invitation was still valid."

"Sure is. Hey, the hall is still his, I'm just providing the manpower until he's done lazing around and decides to get back to work."

"You're a good man."

"Try telling that to my wife," the man said with a sly grin before seeming to finally notice the agent standing behind Rossi with his arms crossed and head down. "Don't see you around much if at all, Aaron. How many years has it been?"

"Too many to count," the profiler replied without looking up.

"Work keeping ya busy, eh?"

"Something like that."

"It's the job that brings us in today. Incident during our last case that we're trying to resolve," Dave offered. "And we need to hash things out ASAP, so Hotch can get home to his little one. Don't mean to be rude, Felix, but it's been a long day, and we really want to put this one to bed."

"Oh, no. I get it. Y'all go take care of business. I'll see to it that you're not disturbed. Hope it doesn't take long. Family is everything. Can't keep that boy of yours waiting," the bartender said with a smile for Hotch.

"No, I really shouldn't. He'll be worried if I'm too late," the unit chief replied with a nod.

"Then come on, kid," Rossi said while stepping to the side to let Hotch pass. "I'm sure you remember where it is. You go ahead and lead the way."

Aaron gazed at Dave for a moment before breathing a sigh as he moved towards the corridor that ran behind the bar.

Standing in the doorway to the office, Hotch marveled at how little it had changed. The same scarred desk dominated the room as it supported a teetering stack of invoices. The seemingly unused filing cabinet sulked in a corner that they had both shared on more than one occasion. The sturdy, well-worn chairs still held their honored positions on either side of the desk.

A warm, oddly gentle hand came to rest on the lead profiler's shoulder.

"You alright?"

Hotch nodded while still surveying the room.

"I was just." He paused and softly sighed.

Rossi ducked around him far enough to see the younger man's face.

"Getting nervous?" he asked without judgment.

"A little," Aaron admitted before steeling his nerve to step into the room.

"Good. A little unease is a good thing. A lot...not so much."

"I'm not scared if that's where you're headed. It's just... It's been a long time, and I never thought..."

Again, the agent allowed the words to die on his lips as he bowed his head.

Rossi moved over to the desk and leaned back against the front edge while he studied the younger man closely.

"Maybe it's been too long," he surmised as he subconsciously interpreted the cues given through Hotch's body language. "You're never too old, Aaron. I've told you that before. A number of times, if memory serves. As long as I have the strength, I'll pull you back in line every time you deserve it. That's something you can count on, along with being shown just how much you mean to me and this team."

With his head still low, Hotch raised his eyes to meet Rossi's, but remained silent.

"I'm all talked out. That is unless there is something you would like to add. Some _reasonable_ defense for your actions, counselor?"

The leader of the BAU slowly shook his head and looked away.

"Alright then, kid," the Italian stated while turning towards the desk and pushing the papers off to one side before taking at seat on the cleared surface. Looking back at Hotch, he crooked a finger. "Come on over here. With the talking done, it's time for action."

As his breath escaped in an explosive huff, Aaron reluctantly crossed the small room, coming to a stop in front of Rossi.

"You know, you only call me kid when you think I've screwed up," the younger man observed.

"Do I?" Dave considered the statement for a moment then nodded.

"Well, it's fitting, don't you think? You _did_ act like a kid. Brash. Running in like a rookie when you knew better. Of course, there are a number of other terms I could use for you," the Italian remarked with a sly grin. "But kid seemed like the kindest one."

Hotch rolled his eyes, before a clearing of his mentor's throat reminded him of his manners.

"So how do you want to proceed?" the team leader asked with a cocked brow. "If you want me over that desk, I think you'll need to move."

"I do want you over the desk, and that's precisely why I'm not going to move."

Aaron's look of confusion was replaced by a palpable horror as Dave pushed back further on the desk and patted his lap.

"You must be joking," the unit chief said while taking a step back.

"Nope. Act like a kid and get treated like one."

"Dave."

"Aaron," the man countered as he raised a brow.

"Be reasonable. I'm not going to do that."

"When will you get it through that thick skull that you don't have a say in the matter?" Rossi asked in exasperation before drawing a breath and continuing in a calmer tone. "Look. I can take you over my lap in that chair over there, but you're going to be mighty uncomfortable with my knee in your gut and the blood rushing to your head. I admit that a desk isn't the best option, but it will support you and it's all we've got."

"Dave, I don't need to be taken over your knee at all. That's kid's..."

The elder agent cocked his head as his protege suddenly grew mute.

"Go on," he encouraged. "Kid's what?"

Hotch exhaled sharply.

"Never mind," he begrudgingly growled as he reoriented himself at Rossi's right knee and began to bend down.

"Not yet. Aren't you forgetting something?" the legendary profiler inquired.

"You're joking."

"Nope. Lose 'em."

"They're linen. What sort of barrier can that possibly provide?"

"Lose 'em," David repeated with a touch more command in his tone.

Grumbling, Hotch unbuckled his belt and quickly unfastened his pants.

"This is ridiculous."

"Your behavior has been ridiculous. Now quite stalling, or have you forgotten that you have someone waiting on you?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Yes."

Muttering under his breath, Hotch shed his slacks then folded his arms over his chest as he stared at Rossi.

"Don't give me that look, Aaron."

"What look?"

"Like this is my fault. I didn't cause this to happen to you. That was your doing. Now check the attitude before you make this a helluva lot harder on the both of us."

Hotch stiffly raised his head and stared hard at the older man before releasing a held breath and swallowing back his pride.

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather use the old school approach? Come on and let me lean over the desk. Believe me, that is just as humiliating as this."

Dave shook his head.

"I'm not interested in humiliating you. You should know that by now," Rossi said with a touch of hurt in his voice. "And while I shouldn't have to explain my actions to you, I will say that my reasoning is due to not wanting you to relate to this as an institutional type of correction. While I know I was busting your balls about the danger you place your partner in, this really isn't about your job performance. This is about your responsibility to your family. Meaning your team as well as Jack. We _are_ a family."

"So you're trying to be my father," Hotch reasoned as bitterness added bite to his words.

"Not at all, Aaron, but you certainly are like a son to me. I can't dictate how you view me, but I've never hidden my feelings from you. You have always known where you stood with me."

The unit chief could see the sincerity in the elder man's face and felt his heart constrict almost painfully in his chest. Unable to hold Rossi's gaze any longer, Hotch bowed his head.

"I'm keeping my feet on the floor," he softly informed his disciplinarian.

"That's fine," Rossi answered while readjusting his position and taking Hotch's upper arm in a firm grip. Being careful to exert as little force a possible to get the stubborn man moving, the Italian guided his protege over his thigh and across the desk until Aaron was forced up on his toes in an attempt to keep contact with the carpeted floor.

Shifting him into a more satisfying position, Dave curled an arm around Hotch's waist to snug him tightly against his hip.

"Comfortable?"

"No," the unit chief answered in a muffled growl.

"Me neither, but we'll just have to make the best of an awkward situation. Maybe I can talk Felix into letting me refurnish the joint. What's a crash pad without a couch, huh?"

The younger man lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder.

"You're kidding, right? I'm not planning on accompanying you back here again."

"You never know, kid. You just never know."

The elder's hand quite unexpectedly cracked down on Hotch's rump, drawing a surprised grunt from the younger man before he buried his head in his folded arms and fell stoically silent.

There would be no slow warm up to ease the lad into the corrective process. His recklessness had earned him a stern lesson from the beginning, and that was what he would get.

"If you don't get a handle on this rookie style of behavior," Rossi lectured as he rained down several more stinging swats before settling into a steady, easy rhythm. "We may be spending a whole lot more time at the Lines than either one of us wants to. You don't do these things, Aaron. Ever."

The sharpness of Dave's strokes challenged the unit chief's impassive resolve, but the pain was familiar and something he could bear. As the stinging burn built, he knew he could disassociate himself from it. He could escape in his mind the same way he had in his youth. Aaron knew how to block the world out. He had become an expert at doing that, and when he did, no physical pain could hope to touch him.

"Do you know how much you're loved?" Dave quietly quizzed, causing Hotch to mentally sigh.

There would be no disassociation this evening. His mentor knew him as well as he knew himself. Over the years he had learned the subtle cues, the shifts in awareness, the puzzling silence, the lack of response. Rossi's skill as a profiler came in handy and he had quickly learned the best ways to keep his protege in the present when he desperately wanted to peacefully drift away. A raised angry voice was easy to ignore, but a soft reasonable one required the younger man's attention, and questions were expected to be answered.

"Yes."

"I don't think you do. I don't think you have a clue as to the number of lives you've touched, and just how many would be devastated if something were to happen to you."

Hotch grimaced as particularly firm stroke connected with the tender junction between his rump and thigh. Sucking in a breath, he steadied his voice.

"Something will eventually happen to me. In the words of Morrison, no one here gets out alive."

"While that's true," Rossi admitted in a pleasant tone before landing a rapid volley of blazing smacks to the younger man's under curve and thighs. "There's no reason to expedite your exit."

"I'm not trying to," the unit chief hissed as the fire across his backside began to blaze.

"You sure as hell could have fooled me."

Gritting his teeth, Hotch declined to comment further in an attempt to gain some form of control over his situation. If luck was on his side, his silence would bring about the same reaction in his disciplinarian and give him a chance to mentally escape.

That wasn't to be the case.

"Before you do anything that has even the most remote chance of endangering your life, I want you to stop and think about everyone who loves and relies on you. Think about Jack and your team. You've never been one to put yourself first. I know that. I know you _are_ that superhero Jack sees every morning when he wakes up, but even superheros need to accept help. You may be super, Aaron, but you're not invincible."

The assault to his aching rear end abruptly stopped, but instead of being relieved, the profiler felt his concern for his hide ratchet up a notch. Swallowing hard, he remained silent and waited.

When Rossi set his hand on Hotch's thigh, the unit chief flinched.

"I take it that I have your undivided attention?"

After a moment, Aaron nodded without raising his head.

"You are not going to put me in the position to have to explain to Jack why his dad isn't coming home," the Italian quietly stated. "You _will_ wait for backup, and you _will_ rely on your team."

"I always rely on the team."

"No, Aaron. You don't. We brainstorm the profile, but you're as reckless as Morgan when it comes to tackling an unsub on your own. That stops here and now. I'm done putting up with this sort of horseshit from you. Your life is on the line every time you step off that plane in a new town to consult on a case. It's a risk we all agreed to, but we don't have to make the damn grim reaper's job any easier."

"Are we done?" the unit chief snidely inquired.

"Apparently not."

While maintaining his grip on his old protege, Rossi leaned back and rummaged through a draw. Finding what he was looking for, he righted himself and hitched Hotch more firmly against his hip.

"I thought we were making a little bit of progress, but it seems that I didn't get through to you at all. Let's see if this will help."

Aaron bit the tip of his tongue as a line of pain exploded across the top of his thigh. As he rode out the shock wave his brain quickly identified the new source of his discomfort.

 _Fucking ruler!_

The elder made quick work of laying the biting bar of wood across his miscreant's entire rear end, expertly using the stinging jolts to keep the younger man engaged while he kept his commentary silent. All too soon, the unit chief's body language changed. His muscles tightened, but his breathing began to come in slow, steady inhalations. It was then that the senior profiler went in for the kill.

"I always thought you were a man of your word, Aaron. Can't begin to tell you how disappointed I am to find that you aren't."

There was a hitch in the team leader's breathing that told Dave that he had him back.

"You told Haley that you'd be there for Jack. That you're make sure he grew up to be a good man. A loving man. Someone respectful, who could be respected. You were to keep him from becoming jaded. Let him know that life was something to be enjoyed. It's something to treasure. You're doing a piss poor job of that right now, aren't you, son?"

Hotch silently shook his head.

"Oh, yes you are. Think of the example you're setting for that child as you haphazardly put your life, your precious life, in danger. It wasn't that long ago that you told me you reprimanded Jack for disappearing on Jessica when they were out. And why was the kiddo in trouble? Because anything could have happened to him. You were concerned for your son's safety, but you show no concern for your own."

Each crack of the ruler was met with a flinch and the occasional soft hiss as the building physical pain mingled with the emotional pain brought on by Rossi's words. Hotch felt his carefully built walls beginning to crack and hated his mentor for it.

"What do you think she's thinking now? Do you think Haley is looking down on you and Jack with pride, knowing that you're taking good care of her son and helping him grow up right? Or, do you think you're turning her heaven into a hell as she watches you leave the house knowing that one day you're going to do something feeble minded and Jack will loose the only parent he has left?"

"Haley always knew..." The unit chief's voice was hoarse and wavered as he vainly tried to blink back his tears. "She knew what the job entailed."

"She did, but she charged you with a new job. A more important job. She placed you in charge of caring for the most precious gift she could have ever given you. Every time you take a foolish risk with your life, you're turning your back on that obligation. That has to stop, Aaron. What have I always said about family?"

The ruler clattered upon the desk as Rossi released it to free his hand to gently rub his sobbing friend's back.

"Family, Aaron," he quietly encouraged.

Hotch sniffled then cleared his throat.

"Family always comes first," he managed to reply, his voice cracking over the statement.

"That's right. The job is important. It truly is. And every life you safe is precious, but yours is more precious, and you've got to start being more careful with it."

"I'll try."

"You'll do more than try, kid, because if there's a next time I'm going straight to the belt, and I'll be channeling Haley from the start."

Hotch snuffled as he shook his head.

"You know, you're a real bastard."

"My mother would have disagreed with that statement, but I have been told that I looked more like the milkman than my old man."

A raw, rough laugh came from Hotch as he began to stir.

"Can I get up now?" he asked as he began to regain his normally infallible self control.

"Learned your lesson?" Rossi countered as he loosened his hold.

"I believe you made your point abundantly clear."

"Good. Then get dressed and clean up a bit so we can go pick Jack up. Your little man must be half starved by now."

"You know he's going to want to get pizza at that place with the mechanical mouse."

"Why anyone would want to eat at a place that has a rat as a mascot it beyond me."

"Kids love him."

"But they cry and carry on when you bring them to have their picture taken with Santa and the Easter Bunny. I never could understand that. Be scared of someone who gives you toys and candy, but mob a six foot rat bearing bad pizza. Makes no sense," Rossi mused as he straighten the papers on the desk while Aaron righted his clothing. "Have they never heard of the plague?"

At the sound of Hotch's belt being buckled, Rossi turned and carefully studied his friend's face.

"You okay now?"

"I've been better, but I'll live. Do you really think that damn ruler was necessary? The rat restaurant has hard plastic booths."

"Perfect. That will serve as a little reinforcement."

"Dave." Hotch's tone was serious as he meet his mentor's eyes. "I can't promise what I will or won't do when I'm called on to do my job, but I'll try to be more conscious of mitigating the danger to myself and others."

"Not quite the result I was hoping for, but if it's the best I can get, I'll take it."

"It's the best you're going to get," Aaron assured him.

"Still friends?"

"Of course," Hotch answered with a slight smile. "Though it's going to be a good while before I like you again, which may make itself known through your workload."

"Oh, Christ, save me. He's going to drown me in paperwork."

"One of the perks of being the unit chief."

Rossi shook his head and smiled.

"Alright, unit chief, let's get a move on. We've got a bambino to pick up and some bad pizza to eat," Dave said as he slapped Hotch on the back.

"You go ahead. I'll be right out."

"Afraid to be seen leaving with the old man?"

"I just need another minute."

"A minute," Rossi clarified. "I'll be out in the car." But as he started to step out of the back office, the elder profiler stopped and turned back to his friend. "Say, you think Jessica likes kiddie pizza? She hasn't started seeing anyone has she? Maybe she'd like to get out for a bit? Have a little fun."

"No," Aaron forcibly intoned. "Jessica will _not_ be the next Mrs. Rossi."

"She could do worse."

"Dave."

"What? Young, single, attractive woman. Mature, successful, established man. What's wrong with that?"

"Just go wait in the car."

"Fine, but just imagine what a perfect family we would make, my future brother-in-law."

"Go!"

Laughing, Rossi ducked out the door and made his way down the corridor while Aaron breathed a sigh of relief.

Once alone, the lead profiler leaned against the filing cabinet in the corner and glanced around. In a strange way, he took comfort in the familiarity of the room. Most of the memories he had of it weren't particularly good, but none were truly bad either. Over the years, he had learned a lot more in here than he had at the JD and the Bureau combined, and he had David Rossi to thank for it.

Blinking, he drove away the unwelcomed sting of tears as the swallowed at the lump forming in this throat.

"Some things should never change," he muttered beneath his breath before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "And maybe a few should."

Moving towards the desk, he picked up the solid wooden ruler and turned it over his hands before casually dropping it into the wastepaper basket.

"Goodbye, my friend. May we never meet again," the unit chief said, before turning away to leave the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

 _~FINI~_

* * *

 **AN:** And I believe that's that. A bit long for a one shot. ;-) Now I'll have to see what sort of inspiration the boys offer. Maybe some Reid, or a bit more of rookie Hotch trying to put his mentor into an early grave? Who knows?

Thanks for hanging in there with me, and for all your wonderful comments and support. They're more precious than gold. Thanks again everyone. Until next time...


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